


A Most Curious Romance

by alexcat



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcat/pseuds/alexcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of a surprising friendship and love between an elf and a reluctant dwarf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Most Curious Romance

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Larian Elensar  
> Request: Hot elf/dwarf sex, first time stuff okay, oral, anal, rimming, light BDSM okay. Prefer Legolas as bottom. During Quest, after Quest either is fine. Hurt/comfort is okay.  
> For Wednesdayschild.

A MOST CURIOUS ROMANCE 

If there was one truth in the life of Gimli, son of Gloin, it was this: he despised all elves. He hated the way they looked, their height, their scent, their silky hair, their language, their ears… everything. 

*EVERYTHING*! 

Yet here he was in Imladris, surrounded by elves. And men. And those tiny halflings. 

He sat at the Council of Elrond and looked at the elf from Mirkwood, King Thranduil’s son. He wanted to smack the smug look from the creature’s pretty face! If that elf thought he, Gimli, son of Gloin, would let *any* elf take possession of that Ring, he was sadly mistaken. 

He insisted on being included in the Fellowship, even though he thought it was a foolish idea, that the small halfling could take the Ring to Mount Doom, but he had no intentions of letting the elf go without a dwarf along to keep him honest. His people knew how badly the elves had messed things up before and *he* had no intentions of being the one who let them do it this time. 

In the months after the council and before the Fellowship left, they prepared, gathering intelligence, supplies, planning the possible routes. The elf was always there, full of suggestions that Aragorn seemed to heed every time. Gimli said nothing. Let the fools plan what they would. He knew that going through Moria was the best choice but no one wanted to listen to him. 

The first leg of the journey was a disaster. Everything went wrong! Gimli did find out that one thing was certain and unchanging: everything changes. 

Oddly enough, Legolas had not taunted him nor made fun of him in his grief over his family in Moria. He had fought like a demon against the troll and Orcs in the mines, even saving Gimli’s life, if not sparing his dignity, when he grabbed his beard. 

Gimli felt bad for Legolas when Gandalf was lost. It seemed to affect him so badly that Gimli realized perhaps this was the first time the son of Thranduil had seen the death of one close to him. He also realized that Legolas, like himself, was a warrior and to comfort him would only serve to make him feel weak. 

If Gimli had been one who sat pondering life, he would have noticed that slowly his feelings for Legolas were becoming something akin to friendship. He was not given to deep thought and seemingly did not even notice that he turned first to the elf for his opinion and that when they fought, he fought side by side with the elf. 

It did not seem odd to him that when the Fellowship broke apart with Sam and Frodo leaving and the other little ones being taken by the Orcs, that he and Legolas became closer, more like brothers than not now. 

It was during this time that they began their friendly rivalry, each certain that he was the better warrior, that his race was the stronger and fiercer. This should have made them adversaries perhaps but it did not. They followed Aragorn, united in a common cause now, bound by the trials they had been through and their belief that Aragorn was the true King. 

Helm’s Deep in Rohan. 

Aragorn was lost and the whole endeavor was floundering. They were there to defend the hold with a group of old men and young boys. The finest warriors were banished with Eomer by a King who was now whole and well, but he been under the influence of Grima Wormtongue when he cast his nephew out. 

“Do you believe that we fight to our death here?” Legolas asked as casually as if he were asking for another piece of bread. 

“Aye, lad. I see no other ending for us.” Gimli grinned and raised his glass. “But we’ll take many of them with us when we go.” 

Legolas clicked his mug against Gimli’s. “I’ll bet I take more of them than you do.” He winked. 

A few months before, the dwarf would have been furious at such a ridiculous challenge but now he felt different. He was still sure that *he* would win the challenge but now it amused him rather than angered him. 

“You have a bet, laddie, and what will I get when I win?”

Legolas shrugged. “You have no chance but if by some impossibility you do, you may choose your prize at the time.” 

Gimli nodded. “Fair enough.”

* 

Despite his being lost to them for a time, Aragorn was not dead! He returned to lead the battle at Helm’s Deep, Legolas and Gimli at his back. The night was long and sure defeat was snatched away in the dawn by Eomer and Gandalf and the exiled army of Rohan. 

The Ents and halfings had defeated Saruman at Orthanc. Part of their job was done, but the darkness was still gathering and gathering fast. Legolas and Gimli refused to give in to the darkness, following Aragorn back to Edoras while Gandalf pressed on toward Gondor to talk to Denethor, the Steward of Gondor. 

“I think that when all is said and done, I’d like you to come with me to the caves at Helm’s Deep.” Gimli didn’t even know where that idea came from but it sounded good to his ears as he said it. 

Legolas countered, “Only if you will go with me to Fanghorn Forest.”

Gimli found himself agreeing that if they lived through the coming days, he would go with Legolas to the forest. What happened to hating all elves? He could not answer his own question. 

Things did not get better for the group. Legolas and Gimli walked with Aragorn through the Paths of the Dead and sailed into Gondor on a Corsair ship with their dead allies. Both elf and dwarf racked up high numbers in the battle against the forces of Sauron. One thing was not in shortage that day, the dead, on both sides. 

They marched with Aragorn to the Black Gates and by some miracle, the Ring *was* cast into the fires of Mount Doom; Sauron fell and the eye was closed forever. 

Suddenly, Gimli realized that it was possible he would not wake up near Legolas many more days. He shrugged. It shouldn’t matter to him. Legolas was simply an elf. 

He despised elves. 

Didn’t he?

On a fine summer day, King Elessar married Arwen and made her the Queen of Gondor. The days of elves and dwarves were waning it seemed, as the days of man were on the rise. 

“So we had a deal, did we not?” Legolas interrupted his reverie. Gimli sat on one of the high castle walls in the White City, looking out to Pelennor Fields and thinking not of winning or losing but of the lost, so many dead. Good men. But there were also good men left to rebuild the land. Many good men. 

“Deal?” 

“The one who won could name his prize, remember?” 

“You know as well as I do that I won. Dwarves are much fiercer warriors than elves and I killed many more than you possibly could.”

Legolas laughed, a sound that gladdened Gimli’s heart for some reason he could not name. 

“Perhaps we should journey to the caves then and perhaps you will remember who had the larger number.”

There was that laughter again. It sent a shiver down his spine. It was not altogether unpleasant. To his surprise, Legolas agreed and they set out on horseback, both on the same horse as they had ridden during the wars. Gimli *was* glad that none of this kin could see him riding with an elf. It was better than riding a pony like a child, he supposed. But only barely better. 

The caves were a wonder to Gimli and to his surprise, even Legolas seemed impressed.

“After all, my home is rather a cave too,” Legolas explained, “but I prefer the woodlands to underground.” 

Freed from war and soldiering, Legolas became more talkative and animated, telling Gimli of his home, his family and what he wanted to do now. Gimli too talked, more than he had in years, telling Legolas things he never told anyone. He spoke with the pride of a dwarf of his family and their proud heritage. He spoke of his Uncle Balin and how sad he had been at his loss.

Time passed and the two went to Fanghorn Forest but could not find the Ents anymore. Perhaps the ancient beings had finally found their wandering Entwives. Gimli hoped so.  
It reminded him that it was time perhaps for him to return home and find himself a wife and raise some fine sons to carry on his family name.

He found himself reluctant to leave Legolas, but he needed to go home. He was sure the elf longed to see his family and home too. He reluctantly brought it up one evening as they ate venison cooked all day in a pit, along with wild greens and the few potatoes they had left. 

“Lad, do ye think it time we wandered back to our people? I know my family is wondering what became of me and I am sure yours is too. I’d lay odds that some comely lass is pining away at your absence.” 

Legolas cocked an eyebrow in that way he had that said Gimli must have lost his mind. 

“Tiring of my company?” He smiled at Gimli as he said it, that odd smile that made the dwarf feel sort of funny inside. 

“Nay, but I am longing to see my kin, and I figured you would like to see yours too.” 

“Yes, I miss my parents and my sisters. I fear they will sail before I see them again, if indeed my father will sail at all.” 

Gimli regretted even mentioning it at all when he saw the sad look on his friend’s face. 

“Do not be sad. We shall head north, each to his home then. We have wandered long and had many adventures but it is time to go home.” 

Legolas nodded. “It is but I will miss you, my stalwart friend.”

“Let us eat our dinner and leave in the morning. We can travel together for some days until we part.” 

“I would like that.” 

Gimli finished his food but it did not taste as good as before. He spread his bedroll and lay down to sleep. In the night, the warmth of a body next to his awakened him. He sprang to his feet and grabbed his axe then he saw it was the elf.

“What…? I came near to splitting you in two!”

“It is cold. I moved closer for warmth. I did not expect to be chopped up like firewood!” 

Gimli lowered his axe and mumbled something about ‘silly elves’ under his breath. He lay back down and so did Legolas, right next to him, snuggled up to his back, in fact. 

“What are you doing, elf?”

“I told you I am cold.” 

Gimli grunted rather grumpily but he protested no more. 

The day dawned clear and blue. Dwarf and elf packed up and began their trek north. They traveled most of the day to the music of birdsong, neither saying a word for hours at a time. They really did not need words, hadn’t for a long time. 

The terrain changed. The plains of the south gave way to the woodlands and mountains of the north. The time was near for the friends to part. 

Legolas clasped Gimli’s arms in a warrior’s farewell and they each went his own way.

Several years passed before the friends again laid eyes on one another. Legolas packed up those of people who wished to come and set out for Ithilien and Gimli packed up his own family to live in the caves he and Legolas had explored. 

The two did not meet on the road but instead in the White City as both went to pay their respects to Aragorn and his queen. 

Gimli’s spirits soared when he saw his old friend, looking as comely as ever as he knelt before the king. Gimli wanted to run up and slap him on the back in a gesture of friendship but dared not in such lofty company. 

“Come now, Legolas, Gimli. We shall not stand on ceremony here. You are my dearest friends and need not kneel before me,” Aragorn said as he bade Legolas to rise. 

The reunion was joyous with fine food, much wine and even more conversation and it lasted well into the night. Legolas was the first to take his leave. 

“I ride to Ithilien tomorrow so I should take my rest.” 

“Aye, and I ride to Aglarond too.”

“Then I bid you both goodnight and will see you off in the morning. It is good to have both of you nearby again.” 

But they did not part. Legolas went to his rooms and Gimli followed. Legolas opened the door and followed Gimli into the room. He poured them both a mug of ale from a flagon on the table. He preferred a fine elven wine but knew Gimli loved ale. 

“Thanks, lad. I have missed ye. Tell me how you’ve spent your time since we parted.”

Legolas talked of his family and his people. Many had sailed but some came with him to settle in Ithilien and live under the rule of the new King. 

“You have not married?” 

Legolas laughed. “You spoiled me for elven maids, my friend. I keep looking for one with a beard.” Even though the words were spoken in jest, both became suddenly serious. 

“I missed you more than I missed my family when I was away from them,” Gimli blurted out suddenly. 

After that, it happened fast. One hand reached out, touched a smooth cheek. Legolas caught Gimli’s hand and kissed his palm. “I want no maid. I want you.” The elf’s voice was breathy and deep, a sound that made Gimli tremble with the want he had denied for such a long, long time. 

“Then you shall have what you want, elf.” Gimli ran his fingers through Legolas’ hair. The elf leaned forward and kissed him. The kiss swept all doubt away as Gimli began to unhook the hooks on Legolas’ outer tunic. “I would see if you are as fair all over as your face.”

Legolas grinned. “And I would see if you are as furry.”

Taking each other’s clothing off gave each something to concentrate on for a few minutes then they were naked. “Kiss me again, elf.” 

Legolas did, a long lingering kiss as he maneuvered them toward the wide feather bed on the other side of the room. “Your beard tickles,” Legolas laughed, deep and throaty. “As a matter of fact, your fur tickles too. I like it, I think.” 

He pushed Gimli down onto the bed and began to kiss him from his mouth downward, smoothing and stroking his hairy body as his mouth teased a nipple to tautness, as he hit a spot just below his ribs that made Gimli gasp, then farther down still to where the hair grew thickest and the Dwarf’s thick cock stood hard and proud. 

“You will kill me like that!” Gimli cried out loudly as Legolas’s tongue slid up the length of his penis from hairy base to dewy tip.

Legolas lifted his head. “I do not think anyone has ever died of pleasure.” 

“Not yet anyway,” Gimli ground out as his length was enveloped in the hot wet depth of the elf’s mouth. He grabbed a handful of flaxen hair and held on. Legolas sucked and licked until Gimli was about to explode! Then he lifted his head and blew cool air on the heated flesh.

“What!?” Gimli gasped. 

“I am not done with you. I want… I desire to have you… I want you to take me, Gimli,” he finally managed to say. 

Gimli said nothing for a long moment. “Are ye sure?” 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I just wish I had not waited so long to say something to you.”

“Me too, elf, but now is not the time to worry about that.” Gimli was pushing Legolas back onto his back so he could touch him and see him. He ran his hand down Legolas’ chest to his belly and below, stroking him gently for a few seconds then harder and faster. 

“You are silky all over, elf.” He leaned down and kissed Legolas, a long, hungry kiss that left them both ready for more. After the kiss, Gimli moved Legolas onto his side, facing away from him. He looked around the room and found some hair oil on the table by the bed. It would have to do. 

Legolas groaned as Gimli began to oil his tiny opening, first on the outside then on the inside. He wiggled his finger inside and smiled when Legolas thrust back against him. 

“Like that, do you?” He reached his other hand around and began to caress the tight sacs below the elf’s cock. 

Legolas just moaned. 

Gimli oiled himself then and pressed into the tight opening. Never had he felt so much love as he did here in Gondor in bed with an elf. An elf! 

He began to move, slowly at first but he needed to go faster, deeper. He fisted Legolas’ long, slender cock and moved his hand in the same rhythm as his thrusts. The pressure built as both neared orgasm. Legolas came first, spilling himself over Gimli’s hand and onto the sheets and Gimli followed, filling the elf with warm seed that ran out onto his legs bottom. 

“Lad, that was… oh my…” Gimli slipped free and lay back, panting. 

“Indeed. Why did we not think of this before?”

Gimli turned onto his side and ran a hand over Legolas face. “I did, lad, I did think of it before.” 

***

Many years passed since that night in Gondor. Legolas and Gimli met there once a year and once a year, they were lovers as well as friends. The rest of the year, they were simply the best of friends. 

After the King died and Arwen passed away also, Legolas rode to see Gimli. 

“It is time, my friend. I shall sail when I get my ship built.”

“Then I shall help you though I do not wish you to go.”

“But you are going with me. I would not leave you. Besides, I want you to tell me if Galadriel is fairer than *I* am.”

Gimli’s face lit up. “I can tell you that now. You are, but I should like to see her again anyway. I believe I shall go with you.”

And he did and lived there until the end of his days with those he loved. 

~end~


End file.
